


selfish, i'm obscene

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Comics), Grayson (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Blowjobs, Jealousy, M/M, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Semi clothed sex, Semi-Public Sex, hes me in this story, im kidding.. or am i, just forcing their heads together- now kiss, poor jason is tired of all your shit, sex in the batcave, there are mentions of joyfire in here because i cant control myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dickdami week day one: jealousy (+praise kink.)</p><p>Dick and Dami have been dancing around their feelings for each other for awhile now. (They finally come to a - head? Climax? Resolution? Yeah, we'll go with that.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	selfish, i'm obscene

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for dickdami week on tumblr and cross-posted (im @hoevarr, pop in to sin with me sometime!)
> 
> title is from the song genghis khan.

Damian doesn’t know when he realizes he wants Grayson. He’s young, when it starts, and it nags and chews at the back of his thoughts like a mouse gnawing through a wall, and he lives with it for a long time, subtle and easily avoided. 

He watches Grayson parade through the Manor, shirtless with his hair mussed, watches Grayson and the girls he pretends not to have slept with walk outside- it’s better when he doesn’t know them, Damian thinks, he hates them and he wishes he didn’t know why. At least, he reasons, the strangers, he can chalk up to being meaningless flings. He grimaces at the memories of Kori, the knowledge of Barbara- women he respects, works with… Intensely, illogically resents. 

Dick comes back in, and Damian erases his pursed brow and scowl for his more common expression of neutrality bordering on the cusp of agitation. 

Grayson pads into the kitchen, starts making waffles. 

“Hey, little D! Pass the butter?” Dick is smiling as he rummages around, cuffs of his sweatpants dragging on the floor. 

Damian does, expression unmoving. Business as usual, it’s always business as usual. 

Push it down, eat your own words, when your heart’s in your throat- choke on it. 

This is what he’s been taught. That is what he does. 

He figures that it’s probably one of those things that happens slowly, over time, like one of Alfred’s souffles rising in the oven- volatile, fragile, delicate,the potential to be delicious. 

Damian, though, can’t cook. He burns everything, is used to butlers and private chefs. 

He thinks of all the incidents, through the years, culminating into agonizingly persistent affection- incidents, ingredients. They are much the same. 

-

 

It’s raining. That’s not unusual, especially not in Gotham, but right now it’s disgustingly fitting, and Damian feels like his life is being transformed into one of those arthouse movies Dick used to tease him for liking. 

Dick is on the porch with the girl known as Koriand’r. Damian can see the exchange, soundless, through the thick glass of his window, though the rain blurs the scene and her hair. She and Dick are over, have been for years. There’s no hope of them getting back together; she’s here on business- she says something to him, and Dick nods, giving her a warm glance when he turns away. 

Damian doesn’t care about the situation, shouldn’t care. 

So why is his head pounding, eyes burning so much he thinks they might just shoot lasers, straight through the glass, incinerating Kori and the entire porch? 

He turns away from the window. 

-

It takes Dick years to realize that it takes two to tango, that this is a dance they’ve been doing for longer than he’d like to admit. 

He probably would have been spinning around in circles forever, honestly, if it weren’t for Jason. 

Dick has always been light- an acrobat, a dancer, twirling and spinning and falling, flighty and lithe- flakier than he cared to admit, in truth. 

Jason had always been sturdier. 

Their relationship was still healing, a tender open wound of a thing, ever since Jason had died- it probably always would be, at least for Jason. He came around to the Manor, sometimes, though Dick had long moved out- choosing to rent his own place in Gotham when he’d returned from Bludhaven- and would patrol with Dick and Damian on a rare occasion. He had his own life, though, and Dick was pleased that for once he seemed to have found happiness, or as close to it as he could get. 

Contentment, that was the word. Something Dick had been feeling a noticeable deficit of lately. 

It must have been noticeable, too, because Jason picked up on it once. Dick was known for wearing his emotions on his sleeve. 

Jason was the first to broach it. Maybe he was more perceptive than Dick gave him credit for, or maybe he just had no dog in the race, less tact, less to lose. Either way, Dick was patrolling alone. Damian was covering a different sector, at Dick’s own suggestion- he’d seemed even more volatile and peevish than usual, and Dick figured it was because of his recent breakup with his most recent boyfriend- they were all nameless and faceless, to Dick, and he swore none of them treated Damian like he deserved. Oddly enough, the suggestion of space just seemed to wound Damian, like a dagger to the gut, but he’d attempted to disguise his expression (he’d never been very good at that,) and stormed off into the night. 

 

Dick came across Jason standing over the slumped figure of some random street thug. 

“He takes after you. Well, least he sticks to only one gender.” Jason exhaled through his nose, the ghost of laughter.

“You’re one to talk.” There was no 12345 in Dick’s tone, none of their usual banter- but there was no venom, either. Dick knew Roy and Kori treated Jason well. 

Jason holstered his gun, glancing at the body at the ground, then back up at Dick. “You need to talk to him.”

Dick cocked his head. “Him?”

Jason rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to the other foot. “Damian, dumbass. This whole charade you put on isn’t helping him. Or you.” 

Dick shook his head, as if it would clear the sudden fog of confusion. 

“Charade? Did I do something? W- Wh…” He trailed off, puzzling through his thoughts. 

“More like what you didn’t do."

Dick was looking at Jay inquisitively. A few seconds passed, and Jason sighed tiredly, frowning. 

 

“You really don’t know, do you?” His voice was softer than Dick had anticipated. He shook his head, becoming faintly aware of sirens in the distance growing louder and louder. 

“Dickie.... You can be the most naive person, you know that?” He glanced towards the direction of the sirens, brow furrowing. 

“Look, I gotta go. Talk to him, okay?” Dick stared down at the unconscious thug, for lack of a better focal point, only dimly aware of the encroaching sirens and Jason’s retreating footsteps.

 

-

 

Dick had fled the scene as the cops pulled up. He’d started walking towards his apartment, but turned towards the cave halfway through, deciding on some level that this was following Jason’s advice. He could still back out of approaching the subject- whatever that was- with Damian, but maybe he could clear some things up. 

Maybe he could lighten the pit in his stomach that tightened with every passing thought of Damian’s-latest-fling number- Dick swallowed, unwilling to lower his dignity enough to count, even more unwilling to admit that he didn’t have to. 

 

-

 

Back at the cave, he clicked through some files on the computer. It was huge, and had better security, meaning more info. Not that any of the Bats’ computers were hunks of junk, thanks to Babs, but the Batcomputer remained the best (save, maybe, for Babs’ own computer systems.)

His mind was finally a little bit more at ease, having had some time to calm down, and focused on typing up a report of what had gone down that night for Tim to read when he got back from an out-of-town meeting,  when he heard the distinctive sound of Damian clearing his throat. 

He looked up. Damian was coming down the steps more slowly than usual, in deliberate movements. His eyes hadn’t left Dick as he made his way down the stairs, coming closer, before stopping, arms folded, in the middle of the room. 

 

He looked- angry? Disappointed? Dick couldn’t put his finger on it, but his heart was in his throat. 

“I bumped into Todd while returning to the Manor. He informed me that I should talk to you. That you had something you wanted to tell me.” 

 

Dick swallowed. “He- um- I. What now?” 

 

“Tt. Eloquent, Grayson.” He glanced off into the distance, at the nothingness in the corner of the room, fingers of his right hand tapping against his left bicep. 

 

“If this is about Thomas, Grayson, I don’t believe I need your patronization to-” 

 

“I don’t care about your boyfriend!” Dick yelled, accidentally cutting him off. His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. 

 

“I mean. It’s none of my business,” he amended. 

Damian’s jaw jaw had clenched, but his eyes had gone softer. He dropped his arms by his sides. 

 

“I’m perfectly aware that you don’t care, Dick.” Dick was startled- Damian never used his first name, never used anyone’s, unless they were dying or he was actually feeling an emotion. 

 

“I know, okay?” he continued. “But I don’t require constant reminding. Just- I get it, okay?” 

He was looking pleadingly at Dick, who sat speechless. 

Abruptly, Damian inhaled, as if to compose himself, and turned back towards the stairs. “If that is all, I think I’ll retire. I’ve had enough of my feelings being made into a mockery for one night.” 

“Damian!

Dami-” Dick rose from the chair. Damian turned slightly back towards him, and Dick realized that they had to clear the air right now. 

Now or never, or who knows what would happen- if he’d ever have this chance again, if Damian would ever let him.

“I’m sorry about your boyfriend, okay? I’m sorry. I’m just… Selfish. I’ve been selfish.” 

He ran a hand through his hair.

Damian took a tentative step towards him. 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Now Dick was even more confused than before. “Your boyfriend- you’re upset that I’m… Resentful, I guess is the word, and- Look, I’m sorry, I said it, and I really mean it, Little D. I want you to be happy.”

Damian was squinting at him. 

“You’re dumber than I thought.” Before the words had time to sink in, Damian had resumed talking- “But maybe I’m dumb too.” 

 

Before Dick knew what was happening, Damian was kissing him. One hand was gripping Dick’s jaw, the other on the back of his head, fingers laced through his hair, pulling him in. It was oddly intimate position, and Dick was taken aback for only a few seconds before he relaxed, letting his hands rest on the small of Damian’s back. 

 

They no doubt looked like a scene from a movie, and something at the back of Dick’s mind reminded him of the security cameras, but then Damian was biting his lower lip, and Dick was moaning into his open mouth, pitiful, half-choked sounds, and he was too far gone to care about anything than the firm, lean muscle he was running his hands over. 

 

“We should have talked sooner,” Dick gasps as Damian pulls away, taking off his shirt and flinging it across the room. Dick thinks it lands somewhere near the computer, but doesn’t have time to process anything before Damian’s hands are all over him again. 

 

He’d seen him shirtless many times before, but this was the first time he was allowing himself to really look. Images of Damian cracking open his bedroom door to see someone out, pants slung low to reveal the band of his designer boxer-briefs, sheets freshly rumpled, jumped unbidden into Dick’s mind. 

He pushed them out, focusing on the sight in front of him- the other people, they didn’t matter now. It wasn’t about them. This was about him, Damian- them together, finally. 

Damian mouths on his neck, just a hint of teeth. 

“Don’t talk,” he growls, “fuck me.” 

Dick swears he swallows his tongue. “Not here-” he starts, trying to force a semi-coherent string of words to explain why it’s not a good idea, but Damian is ignoring him, tugging on Dick’s belt as he tries to undo it. 

“If the security footage is your concern, it need not be, I blocked it.” 

Damian looks up from the belt and into Dick’s eyes, almost seeming embarrassed. 

“Um. Incident with- “ He cuts himself off, as if finishing the thought will be a bad idea, and shakes his head. 

Dick laughs a little, and he can’t even find it in himself to be jealous, not right now, much less outraged. Not with Damian dropping to his knees in front of Dick as he gets the belt off, pops the button on Dick’s pants and gets his cock free. 

Dick’s stumbled back, bracing himself against the wall. Damian eyed him appreciatively, and takes him in his mouth without further announcement. And god, does he know what he’s doing. Dick moans, throwing his head back against the wall. One of Damian’s hands is wrapped around the base of his cock, and with the other he grabs Dick’s hand, guiding it to his hair and motioning for Dick to pull.

Dick begins to, tugging on it gently, and Damian moans, moving his hand to toy with Dick’s balls. 

Dick groans, yanking his hair, forcing Damian to deepthroat him. He looks down, captivated by the motion of Damian’s head bobbing up and down on his cock, red lips stretched, emerald eyes, lust-blown wide, encouraging, gazing up at him through thick lashes. 

“You’re so pretty, little Prince,” Dick breathes. Damian’s eyes flutter closed and he moans, the reverberations going straight to Dick’s cock before he can even register what was said. 

“Beautiful, perfect Prince,” he continues, noticing the effect it has on Damian. 

“You’re so good at this, look so pretty sucking my cock.” Dick should be embarrassed of the words coming out of his own mouth, but he’s not. Quite the opposite, in fact- a flush rises to his cheeks, thinking of how to please Damian (well, it’s half that, half arousal and exertion, probably, but that’s neither here nor there.) 

“My beautiful boy, my gorgeous little Prince,” he says, and Damian moans and Dick is coming down his throat. 

Damian keeps sucking him through his orgasm. When he pulls off, lips slick and red, Dick is panting. 

Damian has a desperate, feral look in his eye as he stands up, kissing Dick’s neck, rutting against his thigh. 

He must have been painfully hard. He whined softly in Dick’s ear, begging. 

“Please,” he whispered, and Dick felt oddly proud- Damian wasn’t one to ask for something easily. He took what he wanted, he never needed. The fact that he needed this from Dick, nobody else, nobody else got to see him like this, not anymore.

Dick growled, kissing Damian, biting hard on his lower lip and eliciting a whine as he undid Damian’s button, yanked his pants down, hooked one finger in the elastic of Damian’s boxers and pulled it away, letting it snap back against his hipbone. 

Damian whined, a high-pitched sound that would drive anyone crazy. 

Dick pulled his boxers down just enough to free his cock, and wrapped one hand around it, the other laced through Damian’s hair, keeping him still. 

“You’re so hard for me, you’re so pretty when you’re like this.” Damian crumpled under his words, breathing heavily, in shuddering, deep heaves. 

“You’re all mine, aren’t you? Everyone wants you; you’re so gorgeous, drive everybody crazy…” Dick thumbed Damian’s slit, and his knees would’ve given out had he not been held up by dick and pinned against the wall. 

“Can you come for me, my beautiful Prince?” Dick whispered in his hear. Damian’s eyes were squeezed closed in pleasure, mouth open, panting. 

“Let me see you lose control,” Dick breathed, and Damian came with a groan, all over Dick’s hand. 

Damian caught his breath as Dick surveyed the mess- they were both covered in come, most of it Damian’s, and Dick felt a second surge of arousal flood through him. 

“That was… pleasant, to say the least,” Damian said, breathing somewhat normally again. 

“Hope it was a little more than that,” Dick smirked. “You’re perfect.” He kissed Damian, just a quick press of the lips into the side of Damian’s spit-slick mouth, but it was a tantalizing promise of more to come. 

“I think,” Damian said with a devilish grin, “That i require a shower.” He pulled his underwear and pants back up, grimacing at the mess they now were. 

Dick cocked his head, approving. “Room for two?” 

Damian scoffed, grabbing Dick’s hand and lacing their fingers together, turning towards the stairs and dragging Dick behind him. 

“Of course.”

 


End file.
